Special (not so) Mortal Squad Chronicles
by Eminda
Summary: Their lives had always been pretty much tragic, until they met each other and King of Drawl himself. Who might have thought that live bound to hell could be so comical?


A/N: I don't know where I got this idea from. I just wanted to write Chlean on my terms. Let's face it, Chloe is a homely girl.

* * *

Lois' head rolled lifelessly from her knees. Chloe sobbed harder. Clark was nowhere in sight and apparently he wasn't able to hear her.

"Lois," she wailed, rocking on her heels back and forth, clutching her cousin's head in a tender grip, "please, please, wake up!"

It wasn't supposed to happen, it was-

"So unfair, isn't it?"

Chloe whipped her head, staring with tearing eyes. Her paranoidal brain shouted that he appeared beside her too suddenly, but she didn't really care, too overwhelmed by her grief. As far as Chloe was interested, a herd of rhinos could be galloping next to her and she wouldn't be paying attention.

"Isn't she too young, brave and strong to die like that? Here of all places?" the stranger asked, his eyebrows emphasising his speech. He was a pleasant man, a mechanic, observant part of Chloe's brain collected, snapping her mental notebook open. Not very tall, with a neat beard and dark, expressive eyes. But most remarkable was his voice - deep, careful, and with constant playful note, hidden behind vowels. Chloe wanted to listen to him more, she wanted to run away from his eyes, and she wanted Lois to be alive.

"I can help you, you know." He said. She didn't know, but she was falling into the black hole that was his 'o's and she really was desperate.

Only her brain was snapping furiously, the parts not overcome by grief speeding on, fighting fear and desperation in order to catch that elusive thought-

"But you can keep on thinking it over."

A wool suit looked good on him - among dirt and destruction which was Ying Pharm. blown up facility he looked as pristine as in a changing room.

"What do you want?" Chloe managed finally. There was no way some creep was offering her help without any catch.

"Honestly? A decent PA. And you fit."

She stared at him numbly feeling grief pushed aside by incredulousness.

"PA?! And you came here all the way to- how the hell did you manage to appear here?"

The man only smiled. "You ask all the right questions, dear." His voice was doing the strange thing again, but it wasn't forceful, it wasn't even that terribly alluring, just… pleasant to listen to.

"You don't know how hard it is to find a good PA, especially in my line of work."

"And I'm the only candidate?" Chloe snarked, clutching Lois's head tighter. No, she wasn't going to walk into a trap just because some teleporting freak walked in and started offering reviving her cousin.

Oh, Jesus, Lois.

"Oh, the messiah boy isn't here, dear, but I am."

Now Chloe felt fear, too, because he definitely was reading her thoughts.

"It's not as if they are hard to read. But back on topic. You are the only _decent_ candidate. Among your ability to keep a level head, you are loyal. And I need that."

"Who said I'd be lyeal to you?"

"Not to me," and here the man smiled a beautiful, evil smile, "to the contract."

A scroll appeared in his hand. "An honest contract, I don't even ask for your soul, dear. Only loyalty. And only for ten years."

Chloe eyed him with suspicious. "What are you, a devil?"

"Me? Not, not yet, maybe, but I'm definitely not a devil. Nothing in particular, really."

"I don't trust you. And what about Lois?"

"What about her?"

"Do you need her soul?"

He looked sincerely surprised. "What for?"

"Don't you need a leash? If I agree, wouldn't it be better to have a leverage?"

"I really like the way you think, Chloe-girl. But a good contract is better." He struck his hand out, and Chloe took the scroll with caution.

It was a damn long contract. Full of remarks put in a really tiny writing, with dropped capitals on every page. Despite the direness of the situation, Chloe's cheeks flamed with indignation. "This thing protects you more than me! Screw you! I won't sign it unless you change it."

He lifted his right eyebrow, waiting for her to continue, and Chloe gladly rose to the bait. If this guy could really help her, she was going to get the maximum out of it.

They argued and danced around each paragraph, smiled sincerely fake smiles and in the end Chloe felt as if she was a squeezed lemon. He was better than her at that.

But she was really desperate.

_The contract comes into force as soon as Lois Lane returns to life with no ill consequences, spells, magical or physical harm upon her body, mind or soul._

Chloe took a shuddering breath and allowed the man to touch her fingers. The blood seeped right through skin, but she was beyond caring at the moment. She could be selling the Earth to Decepticons for all she cared, and all she could feel was Lois' hair between her fingers.

His signature was fancy and long, but Chloe didn't pay enough attention, focusing on her cousin's waxen complexion.

"Why isn't she waking up?" She demanded, her voice rising. "You said you'd get her back."

"My, you suddenly start to disappoint me, Chloe," he shook his head, "I said I can help you. You are going to do it all by yourself."

His eyes were right in front of hers, an intense, solid red lights, and Chloe felt scared, she felt so, so scared, what did he mean he wasn't _yet_ a devil? Could one get more scarier?

There was a faint, glimmering light beneath her hands, but Chloe could only stare in these dull, hypnotic, monstrous eyes. And she thought Clark's redK eyes were kind of scary. She'd take that jackass any time a day if only to avoid these terrifying pits of hell.

"My, don't be so dramatic, Chloe. Just now, you are as safe from hell as you were yesterday."

She was in pain now, in a real, gut-tearing pain, but she suddenly realized that she didn't even ask for a name of a being she had agreed to work for.

Thankfully, he was able to read her mind anyway.

"A good question, isn't it? Name the fear and it isn't so scary anymore."

The light was blinding, and something was tugging at Chloe's hands, and her poor belly felt like somebody was tugging a hook through it.

But she heard it nonetheless.

"Call me Crowley, dear."

* * *

A/N: Most likely it'll be a bunch of drabbles than a multi-chaptered fic.


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